Always Remember Me
by Fly Raven. Fly
Summary: When everything ties to fairy tales and the blue eyed boy in the doorway.


**I got this idea in my head that I kind of really wanted to do either a songfic or an ipod shuffle fic, but there's so many already I kind of lost interest. Until I thought, why not do one of those "Soundtrack of my life" kinds of things? And this is the first time I've done any fic based off of a song, so just hang in there with me, all right? **

**It's a bit of an AU, but hopefully, not by too much.**

_**And **_**this is the most I've ever written in one sitting. Honestly. I'm a bit shocked at myself, because I think this may also be the fluffiest. **

**I'm going to do Blaine's "Soundtrack" of his life, and depending on the response this gets, I'll do Kurt's also. Maybe. Possibly. But I think it may be better if it were to stay as Blaine's. Anyway, enough chitter chatter, on with the fic!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, any of it's characters, or any of the songs I mention. I use them purely for my own gain and to keep my overactive imagination remotely satisfied with me.**

**-.-**

_Opening Credit- Walking on Air, Kerli._

_Flitter up and hover down  
>Be all around, be all around<br>You know that I love you, go on_

_Feel it and breathe it, believe it  
>And you'll be walking on air<br>Go try, go fly so high  
>And you'll be walking on air<em>

_You feel this, unless you kill this  
>Go on and you're forgiven<br>I knew that, I could feel that  
>I feel like I am walking on air<em>

If there was one thing he loved most in the world, it was when his Mommy read him stories from the Big Book of fairy tales. She'd sit on the edge of his bed and whisper to him stories of fairies and giants, elves and trolls, goblins and worlds where everything was upside down and backwards. Blaine would sit with wide eyes, listening as the story would play out, as the little boy and girl would run away from the evil hag trying to eat them, or as the girl who was little just like him almost gets eaten by the wolf.

Sometimes she'd even let them play out the story, and she'd stomp around the kitchen reading from the Big Book raising her voice and cackling, curling her fingers like claws, or flittering all over the place. They'd make it like a giant play, and Blaine would laugh and squeal and shriek, running away from his mommy as she chased and chased and chased him. She even lifted him up one time, way over her head, and he was the biggest dragon, roaring and shooting flames out of his mouth.

With his mommy and their Big Book, he was a wizard, a goblin, a jester and a king. Some days, he was a talking lion, the prince who was stuck as a frog, the puppet who wanted to be a real boy, or a jittery rabbit. (Who was always worried about being late for some reason. Blaine asked his mommy one time why he was always late, and she said it was because he was always trying to be early, and if he just focused more on trying to be late, being early would come to him a lot more "naturally". Blaine just nodded, because it made perfect sense in his four year old mind.)

The Big Book and his story time with his mommy were his favorite things in the entire world. He could make up anything he wanted, and it would all come true right there in his living room, or the kitchen or his bedroom. It was his Big Book, and his mommy, and their kingdom of fairy tales.

Their Big Book was a humongous book that his Mommy had when she was little, and her and her Mommy would write down every story they knew in the book, and draw pictures to go with them. The book got bigger and bigger with every story, and his Mommy said it was Blaine's book now. There weren't a lot of new stories they put in there, because almost all of them were already in there, but that was okay with Blaine, because it would always be the most magical book ever.

One day, his mommy had a new story to tell him. She had taken their Big Book into her room, and didn't come out for a really long time. When she came into his room after he had brushed his teeth all by himself like a big kid, she had sat him down on her lap (which was okay sometimes, because Big Boys don't sit on their Mommies laps all the time.) and opened to a new page in their Big Book. She told him a story about how in a "black, black world there was a black, black town and in the black, black town there was a black, black house and in the black, black house there was a black, black cupboard and in the black, black cupboard there was a white box." She told him about this white box, and inside that white box in the black cupboard in the black house, there was a doll. This doll was really a girl who was made into a doll by a witch, because the girl was all that was good, and the witch hated her. The witch hated her and how the girl loved everyone, and everybody loved her right back. The witch hated how everything she was was pure and wonderful, so she turned her into a doll and everything turned dark in the world. She locked her in the white box, but no matter how hard she would try otherwise, everything the doll touched turned white, pure just like everything the witch hated. So she locked the doll away in that box, hidden in the cupboard, in that dark house, in the dark town, in the dark world.

His mommy had drawn pictures of the doll, hidden in the box, with darkness all around. It made him sad because she was so beautiful, and why would anybody want to lock something so good away? Blaine asked his mommy if the doll ever made it out of the white box, and his mommy said, "No, she never did. She was the type of doll who needed her strings to move, and when she was put into the box, the witch cut her strings. She was stuck in her white box, unable to move, while the witch made everything else dark. Because that's what witches do. They take all that is good, and they make it the darkest thing they could ever imagine. That witch took that good, wonderful, lovely girl, and tried to make her dark and helpless and something she wasn't. And I'll tell you something, as dark as that world may be, as dark as that witch made it, I believe as long as there is still that white box, there is good. And if there is good, _somebody_ will find that white box and help that doll get her strings back. There are always good people in the world, darling," she said, whispering to him. "And somebody will always be there for any dolls that need their strings."

He had asked his mommy why the doll didn't have her strings yet. She touched her forehead to his and gave him an Eskimo kiss, looking right at him like she does when she needs to say something serious. "Nobody found her yet. It takes time. And it takes time to reattach the strings. But that doll is strong. And that doll can do anything as long as it has someone to help get its strings, and to get it out of that box."

That made Blaine very, very sad, because the doll shouldn't have to be alone all that time, waiting for help. Who knew how long it was going to take for someone to help the doll? "I'll help the doll," he said, nodding and looking at his mommy, because she looked very, very sad too. "I'll help the doll with its strings and get it out of the box."

She had smiled at him, but she didn't look very happy, and her eyes looked sad to him, still. But she kissed him on his forehead, tucked him in, turned on his nightlight, put their Big Book on his dresser, and whispered "I know you will," before she shut the door and went to bed.

-.-

_Waking Up- Runaway, Love and Theft_

_I'm gonna pack my bags, and never look back.  
>Run a parallel line with the railroad tracks, and make my get away.<br>I put the pedal to the metal as the sun goes down._

_Leave everybody sleeping in this sleepy town,_

_And at the break of day, I'll be a runaway._

When his Dad—because Blaine couldn't remember when he had called him Daddy—got really mad, he would always say he was just going to run away from home. Him and Mommy would yell all the time about it, and his Daddy would always walk out and slam the door.

When Blaine woke up one morning, he heard him Mommy and Dad fighting again. Usually, it doesn't bother Blaine because his dad was at work all the time and he spent the whole day with his Mommy, but they yelled at each other all the time now, and he didn't spend a lot of time with his Mommy anymore. So even though Blaine knew it was bad _("It's not polite to eavesdrop, I know sometimes you want to, but if you were supposed to know about the conversation, you'd be invited into it. It's rude, Blaine, understand?") _he walked over to his door and opened it _very _quietly as he crawled to the top of the stairs and peeked at his parents through the bars on the banister.

His mommy had her hands on her hips, and her eyes were sad again, and she was crying even though she was yelling. His Dad was yelling too, his hands poking in the air, and flying everywhere, as his Mommy put her chin up and her cheeks got very tight. They weren't yelling as loud as they usually were because they probably thought he was still sleeping, but it was still kinda made his ears hurt.

"Don't act all high and mighty, you're not so perfect yourself." His Dad yelled at his Mommy. "What do you think you're going to do if you leave, huh? Going to take Blaine with you? How are you going to get a job, miss trust fund? Think you're parents will help you out, if you leave me? They'll push you out as soon as you go knocking at their door and tell them you fucked up again. If anyone has the right to leave here, it's me. You and your fucking nagging and bitching, while you sit here all day on your ass and don't do a goddamn thing." Blaine's eyes were very wide, because he never heard his Dad talk like _that_, and his Dad was never like this in front of other people.

"You want to leave? Fine. You talk so much about it anyway. Go on, go. Pack your bags, and get out. And I stay home all day taking care of our—or should I say _my—_son, while you're off banging your secretary. Don't act like you're the wounded party here. It's me and Blaine—Blaine who is your son, who needs his _father_ to be around sometimes. I asked you to stay here for one weekend, one weekend instead of going off to Brazil with your little whore. One _weekend_. I don't care about who you sleep with, I don't care what you do with your money, and I don't care about spending time with you. But when we agreed to this marriage, and when we had a child, that you would be home one weekend out of the month. It's been four months, and the only time he sees you is when you come home from work, and then you're screaming about my _nagging. _And for your information, I can take care of Blaine and I just fine."

His Dad just growled and shook his head, said something really quiet that Blaine couldn't hear that made his mommy turn really, really white, then walked away. His mommy yelled, "Fine. _Run away, _then!" and then the front door slammed. His mommy put her hands over her face and he saw her shaking. Blaine bit his lip, then turned around and went back to his bedroom.

-.-

_First Day of School- Kids, MGMT_

_We like to watch you laughing.  
>You pick the insects off plants.<br>No time to think of consequences._

"Blaine—Blaine, darling would you—stop—_bouncing._"

He stopped bouncing right away, even though his mommy wasn't mad because her eyes were wrinkling at the corners, and that meant she was happy or thought something was funny. She pushed the comb through his hair one more time, and then shook her head, sighing, and slapped her hands on her thighs. "Of all the things you had to inherit from me, you just had to get my curls, didn't you?"

Blaine blinked and he heard his Nana laugh from behind him. "Not only that, but also your boundless energy, endless curiosity, and the fact that he always manages to get himself in trouble one way or another."

His mommy lifted one eyebrow—Blaine tried to do that, but it never worked, and so wasn't fair—and stood up. "Thank you, Mother. As if I didn't already know the similarities between myself and my son." His Mommy sounded like she did when she talked to his Dad, and Blaine didn't like that. He turned around to stare up at his Nana who was giving his Mommy a funny look, like she was sad or something. Blaine could understand, if his Mommy talked to him like that, he'd be sad too.

"Are you going with us to take me to school, Nana?"

She looked at his Mommy before crouching down so she was as tall as him. "No, I just came by to tell you to have a wonderful first day, and you had better tell me all about it when you come over for cookies tomorrow, okay?"

Blaine felt kind of sad that she wasn't going—and neither was his Papa or Dad—but when she said he was going to see her tomorrow, he smiled. "Okay, I will."

She smiled back at him, kissed him on the cheek, nodded at his Mommy, then left. He turned to look at his Mommy and bounced up and down again and she laughed at him. "Are we going to school now? Am I going to kindergarten? Is Mrs. Mallacote really gonna be my teacher? Is Thad going to be there? He's in the same class right?"

His mommy shook her head and held her hands up, still laughing at him. "Stop, stop! Yes we are, yes you are, yes she is, yes he is, and yes. Calm down, Blaine."

He grinned as she held his hand to help him up into the car so he could get in his booster. "I _am _calm Mommy. I'm just excited, duh. We're going to school!"

…..

Blaine hid behind his Mommy, his eyes wide as he looked around the giant room. Kids like him were running around and playing, some were sitting at tables and drawing, and some were taking off their big kid back packs and lunch boxes by the door. His mommy was talking to Mrs. Debbie, who said she was a "teacher's-aide" to Mrs. Mallacote. She seemed nice, but she smelled kinda funny, and her socks weren't matching, so Blaine didn't know what to think yet.

He turned around really, really fast when he felt someone tap his shoulder, and his friend Thad was right there, his eyes were _super _big when he waved at Blaine. "Hi. _Blaine_." He whispered suddenly. "We're in _kindergarten._"

Blaine nodded really fast. "I _know_. We're _big kids _now, Thad!"

His friend scrunched up his eyebrows a little as he looked behind him at something. "I dunno. There's two boys over there with bugs and making them sing and dance. Do big kids do that?"

Blaine looked at where Thad was pointing, and tilted his head. There _were _two boys making beetles—that's what his Mommy said they were—dance, as they sang for them. Blaine was about to tell Thad they should go over and say hi when a woman yelled and walked over to them.

"Wesley and David! How many times have I told you—_no bugs._"

"But _Mom!_" one of the boys said, holding the bug away. "They're not spiders. You said no spiders because we put them in Jenna's bed."

"It's not like they were bad spiders." The other boy said, looking up at the woman, who had her hands on her hips. "They were Daddy Longlegs. It's not like they could bite her. They're mouths are too tiny."

"I don't know why she screamed so much, either Mom." The first boy said, also looking up at his mother now. "We didn't even tell her they're poisonous. Why did she freak out so much?"

The Mom pinched her nose like Blaine's mommy does sometimes, right before she sends him to the corner. "Wes. Give me the bugs. Now. And Jenna screamed because some people don't like bugs—okay, okay, _insects_. Now c'mon. Give them here."

The first boy sighed and held up his hand, his Mom taking them and looking like she just ate Brussels sprouts. She shook her head and walked away to put them outside.

Blaine looked at Thad, and they both started walking towards the two boys. They stopped at the table where the two boys were whispering and looking over at the first boy's mom. They looked up at them when they reached the table, and Blaine stuck his hand out like he'd seen his Dad and Mommy do when they met someone new. "Hi, I'm Blaine, and this is my friend Thad."

The one boy who's Mommy came over help out his hand too, and shook Blaine's. "Hi. I'm Wes, and this is my best friend David." Blaine shook the other boy's hand, and Thad did the same with Wes.

Blaine saw his Mommy and Wes' Mom looking at them and smiling and talking. He rolled his eyes and turned back to the other boys. "Where'd you get the beetles?"

David grinned really big. "We got them at Wes' house this morning and put them in our lunchboxes. Amanda only got two of them." He pointed a finger under the table. "The rest are still in the lunch box."

Thad giggled, and his eyes were huge. "What're you going to do with them?"

"Set them free during lunchtime." Wes smiled.

So did David. "In the classroom."

Blaine shook his head, eyes wide too. "You're going to get in so much trouble."

"Not if no one knows it was us." The boys both said, then laughed.

Blaine shrugged his shoulders and looked at the other three. "I'm not gonna tell."

Thad shook his head. "Me neither."

Wes grinned really wide. "Great." He took out a stick that kinda looked like a hammer and hit it on the table once. "I think this is the start of a great friendship!"

"It's called a gavel." David shook his head, and tried to take it away from Wes, who held it above his head. "His Dad's a judge. He always says Wes is going to be 'power hungry' and that him with a gavel is dangerous."

Blaine grinned.

-.-

_Falling in Love- One, Two, I love you, Clay Walker_

_You and me and mother goose  
>Learning lines to nursery rhymes<br>That's when I fell in love with you_

_Back when it was  
>One, two buckle my shoe<br>Three Four shut the door  
>Five Six pick up sticks<br>Even then my heart was yours_

Blaine saw there was a new boy at school today.

He was standing by his Mom in the doorway of Mrs. Hanes' third grade class, talking to the teacher. He poked Thad and jerked his head over to them. His friend glanced over and then tossed a balled up piece of paper to Wes and David.

Blaine looked back to the doorway just as the boy glanced around and saw him. Blaine blinked as the boy smiled at him, and his stomach felt funny. He tried to smile back but he didn't know if it worked. His cheeks felt warm as he turned back around and tried to hear what it was Thad Wes and David were whispering, but he really just wanted to turn back around so he could see the boy in the doorway.

He looked down at his book, trying to read like everyone was supposed to but he couldn't focus. It didn't matter anyway because Mrs. Hanes was at the front of the class now with the boy next to her, looking a little nervous, but standing straight.

He was dressed really fancy, Blaine saw. He was wearing something like what Blaine would wear to his Nana's and Papa's, but he looked comfy in it. He looked back up at the boy's face, and looked away when he saw the boy was watching Blaine look at him. Blaine looked down and turned a page in his book, waiting until Mrs. Hanes spoke up.

"Class, we have a new student. This is Kurt Hummel and I want you to welcome him to our classroom."

Blaine mumbled a hello along with everyone else, still looking down.

"Now, you have all your things, somewhere for you to sit… Yes, Wes and David? Did you need something?" She sighed as she saw the two boys' hands in the air.

"He could sit our table. We only have four." Wes answered, used to all the teachers treating him and David as a single person. Blaine jerked his head up, and saw Mrs. Hanes looking like she couldn't decide whether to put the new boy—Kurt—at a table with Wes and David, even if their table was the only one with four instead of five. Mostly because Wes and David scared all the other kids in the class away.

"Yeah, Mrs. Hanes, that way all the tables will have five at them." David said, smiling brightly. She looked between their table and Kurt, and sighed.

"Okay. But, Kurt, if you need anything at all, or have a problem, just tell me okay?"

Kurt looked a little confused, but nodded and was about to sit down when she moved the chair.

"Why don't we just move this, that side of the table is a bit crowded anyway, Thad, you sit next to Wes and David and I'll just move Kurt over here between you and Blaine, alright?"

Blaine looked down once again when the chair was set next to him, and Kurt sat down next to him. Kurt began to take everything out of his bag when Mrs. Hanes walked around the classroom. Blaine saw Kurt look at him, and as he looked up Kurt gave a little half-smile, and said a quiet "Hello."

Again, Blaine just blinked at him, because he didn't know any other boys with pretty voices like that. It sounded like when his Mom would sing in the kitchen along with the radio and the door open.

He licked his lips. "Uhm, h-hi." He felt embarrassed, but he didn't really know why, and looked across the table at Wes and David who were watching Kurt.

Kurt looked up and smiled at them, too. "Hi."

The boys narrowed their eyes as Thad rolled his and lifted his book higher so he couldn't see Wes and David.

"I'm Wes."

"I'm David."

"You're Kurt Hummel."

"Wes, he knows his own name."

"Well, yeah, I'm just making sure. Everybody has to know their own name. Or else, that'd be kinda weird."

"You think?"

"I know. Anyway."

"You're sitting at our table."

"We have some questions to ask you."

Kurt was starting to look a little overwhelmed, and Blaine cleared his throat quietly. "Leave him alone guys."

Wes and David looked shocked and ignored Blaine's glare. "What? Leave him alone?" David asked, staring at him.

Blaine frowned and looked away. "He just got here today."

Wes and David were still staring at him when he felt a hand touch his wrist, and he looked up to see Kurt mouth a thank you before taking out his book. Blaine nodded, his stomach feeling even weirder, and his heart beating really fast. He looked at Kurt and his head that was bent over his book, and his brown hair, then looked away fast before Kurt looked up again.

Blaine looked back across the table, and Wes and David and Thad were all watching him, Wes and David with their heads tilted to the side and Thad with a smile on his face. He frowned and looked back at his book for the third time, his wrist feeling warm from where Kurt touched it, and looking at the boy sitting next to him every now and then.

-.-

_Fighting- Broken Strings, James Morrison and Nelly Furtado_

_You can't play on broken strings  
>You can't feel anything<br>That your heart don't want to feel  
>I can't tell you something that ain't real<br>Oh, the truth hurts and lies worse  
>How can I give anymore<br>When I love you a little less than before?  
>But we're running through the fire<br>When there's nothing left to say  
>It's like chasing the very last train<br>When we both know it's too late, too late_

Blaine sighed and rolled onto his stomach on his bed, pulling his pillow out from under him and pushing it over his head, trying to block out the screaming coming from down stairs.

"_What do you fucking want from me?"_

He sighed, clenching his eyes shut; trying to think of the math homework he's supposed to be doing, of telling his mom about the new boy Kurt at school, of _anything_.

"_What I want is to not be around you anymore!"_

"_Oh, like you even wanted that to fucking begin with."_

"Don't_ you even start!"_

"_What? Don't start what? The fact that this whole marriage was a fucking sham because you were pregnant?"_

"_Oh, please. You and I both know you didn't marry me because you felt duty and honor bound. Was it just a coincidence that after we got married you had somehow managed to get enough money to open your firm? Or did my Father's checkbook have something to do with it?"_

"_This is old fucking news. That's right, Daddy bribed me because who the hell else would want to marry you otherwise?"_

Blaine flinched when there was a loud crack, and then silence. He sat up slowly when he heard the door slam—again—and footsteps stomping up the stairs. He heard a light knock and his Mom came in, her hair all over the place and wiping her eyes. She walked over and kissed his forehead, then went to his closet and pulled out one of the duffle bags Blaine used when he and his Mom went on vacation. She moved to his dressers and started taking things out, and putting them in, and then his desk and night stand.

Blaine swallowed and shivered, feeling cold. "Mom?"

"Yes, darling?"

"Are we going somewhere?"

She turned around to face him, bit her lip, walked over to where he was sitting, and cupped his cheek in her hand. "Yeah, we are. Why don't you grab your back pack, I need to go pack my bag. We'll get the rest of your stuff, I promise." She breathed in deeply and closed her eyes for a moment, clenching her teeth. "We're going to go stay with Nana and Papa for a while. We'll get dinner before we head over there, so you can tell me about your day, okay?"

She let go of his cheek, and moved towards his night stand, pulling out their Big Book and running her hand down the cover, then put it in his lap gently. She leaned over, and kissed the top of his head. "I'll be right back. And then we'll leave okay? I love you."

He bit his lip and watched her walk out his bedroom door, and stared down at the book on his lap.

-.-

_Breaking Up- Love Song, Five for Fighting_

_Put away your tears and your sleepy eyes  
>Put away that bullshit, big boys they don't cry to their mama's<br>she'll be back soon  
>Put away your raincoat and make your bed<br>Take another bullet right to your head  
>We're going on a picnic and we'll get there soon<br>She says maybe it's over  
>He say's there's plenty more fish in the sea<br>I say don't go away from me_

"Why Westerville? Why can't we stay in Lima, where all my friends are?" Blaine asked again, trying not to get angry or else he thinks he might cry.

His Mom sighed again and folded one of his shirts that were sitting on his bed in his grandparent's house. "We've been over this, Blaine. I need a job so we can move out of your grandparent's house. The only place that will hire me is in Westerville. I can't commute to Lima everyday. I'm sorry. If it makes you feel better, I talked to Amanda, and she says Wes and David refuse to go to school unless you're there, and the only reason they're still going to Lima Elementary is because they want to be where you and Thad are. You know they live in Westerville, and they'll be right there with you. You'll have your friends."

He clenched his hands in the bedding, looking down and thinking that was home. He always went there that was his school, and his class, and his friends, and his table, and who was going to sit at the table with Kurt if they're all gone?

His Mom's hand was on his fisted one, and she pried the blanket out of his fingers, lacing hers with his instead. "I know this is hard for you, darling, and I'm sorry. But I'm doing my best here. Divorces are hard, and this is no different. I know that was your home and your comfortable there, but there is no way we can stay there, Blaine. But Wes, David, and Thad are going to be at this school with you. Doesn't that count for something?" she bent her head so she could see his eyes, making him smile a little. He nodded just a tiny bit, and she sighed again, pushing his hair off his face. She laid her forehead on his and held his hand. "I'll make it work, Blaine." She said softly. "Okay? We'll make it work."

He bit his lip and nodded. "Okay."

-.-

_Driving- Live Like Music, Alexz Johnson_

_I wanna live like music  
>Pouring out the windows<br>__rolling down the street  
>punching every station<br>Singing lovely and sweet  
>I wanna live like music.<em>

"_I'm gonna take it back to the café bar,"_ Blaine sang out, pounding his hands on the steering wheel and bobbing his head to the beat. He glanced in the rearview mirror, looking past the reflection of his pink sunglasses behind him, and turned on his blinker to switch lanes. _"Gonna show 'em what I got on my guitar. And I'm not gonna hold anything back. Gonna strip it right down, put it on the floor track." _

He bounced a little in his seat, as the harmonica blared out through his speakers, lifting one of the coffees from the cup holder and taking a careful sip. As Dalton came into view he began to turn the dial down on the volume, and rolling the windows back up. The song ended, the last notes fading away, and he put the car in park, and turned off the ignition. He was about to gather up the cups of coffee—lucky him picked the short straw, and was chosen to do the coffee run for the day—and his bag, when his phone began to vibrate and ring on the passenger seat.

"_Mama, mama you're the __queen of my heart__ your love is like tears from the stars—" _he reached over and answered with a smile on his face.

"Good morning, dear mother. You know, that ringtone is very cheesy. I think I'm going to change it to Mama by MCR." With a grin on his face he straightened his tie and blazer and sang teasingly, _"Mama, we all go to hell. Mama, we all go to hell."_

He heard his mother laugh from the other end, and the sound of her shifting the phone echoed on the line. "Oh hush, that song fits me perfectly. You better not change it, or whenever you call me yours will be Barbie Girl. Then, every time you come to visit my work everyone will sing it to you and then hence forth you shall be known as Barbie."

"Fine, if I'm being forced to keep it, then I will. But I have to tell you now; I'd make a better Barbie than she would any day." When he heard his Mom snicker, his grin widened.

"Of course you would. Not to mention, the pink sunglasses would clash with her bleached hair horribly." Blaine chuckled and shook his head, glancing at the time. "Anyway, I wanted to catch you before you got into class and to remind you to tell Thad to record when you guys do Teenage Dream today, all right? And be sure to tell Wes that I won't let anybody else see it; it will forever be on my cell phone which is pass coded, and that I will guard it with my life. And I already understand the threat of disembowelment if it were to fall into Vocal Adrenaline's hands. Who came up with that name by the way?"

"At least it's slightly better than Aural Intensity, or New Directions."

"True, true." She conceded. "I feel sorry for those kids. I mean New Directions? If you don't say it with a long I it sounds like—"

"Yes, Mom I get it." Blaine cut in laughing. "I'll pass along your messages, and suffer the eye rolls and death threats from my friends since I'm sure you also called them and nagged them about it." He spoke over the affronted sound she made. "I meant reminded. Reminded them about it. I'll call you after school, I have to go and deliver the coffees before classes start."

She sighed, long and deep sounding deeply—mockingly—hurt. "Where's the love anymore? Can't even make time for your dear, poor old mother."

"And because I know you so well, and the fact that you're fishing for compliments, I'm going to say you are not old, I adore you, you are the best mother ever, and I love you but I _really _have to go, poor mother. You can call me after school and continue to lament about your son and how he never appreciates you, okay?" Blaine teased, gathering all his things and stepping out of the car, locking the door and making his way across the parking lot.

"You got it, Mr. Anderson." His mother chirped cheerfully. "And remember, I want that video, otherwise someone else is going to be in danger of disembowelment, understood?"

He rolled his eyes, still smiling. "Yes, mother."

"Don't you roll your eyes at me, young man. I'll talk to you later, have a wonderful day, consider showing some mercy for your poor hair and leave the gel alone, I love you, bah, blah, blah, and all that. Bye bye, darling." And she hung up with a click.

For a moment all he did was stare at his phone in slight disbelief, and then he ran a hand over his gelled hair and shook his head, making his way into the hallway of his school.

-.-

_Flashback- Written in the Stars, Tinie Tempah ft. Eric Turner_

_Oh written in the stars  
>A million miles away<br>A message to the main  
>Ooooh<br>Seasons come and go  
>But I will never change<br>And I'm on my way. _

Blaine was hurrying down the stairs, knowing if he was late Wes was going to kill him, whether or not he was the soloist, when he heard a voice call out behind him. He wasn't really sure why he turned around, but he heard the voice and something about it gave him pause, making the hairs on his arms stand and something flicker in his brain.

He turned to face the boy who called out, and instead of seeing the tall, and graceful teenager looking out of place in his designer clothes among all the blazers, he saw a little boy standing in a doorway, looking nervous but obviously fighting it, then giving him a bright, beautiful smile that made him feel warm all over. He saw the same little boy sitting next to him with a hand touching his wrist lightly, and a pink flush on his cheeks and the butterflies in his stomach.

Blaine shook his head, frowning slightly and wondering where on earth that had come from, and looked at the boy walking up to him, who like the first flash, was looking a bit uncertain but fighting not to show it. Blaine shook off the feeling of déjà vu straightened his shoulders and offered him a friendly smile, still feeling that odd sensation in his stomach and fighting to ignore his sweaty palms.

-.-

_Mental Breakdown part 1- Fix Me, Rise Against (Black Flag cover)_

_Someday I'll feel no pain  
>Someday I won't have a brain<br>They'll take away the part that hurts  
>And let the rest remain<br>Fix me  
>Fix my head<br>Fix me please,  
>I don't wanna be dead<br>Someday we'll all be rich  
>Someday I won't listen to you bitch<br>I'll turn up the volume and you  
>Can hear all the shit we play just for you<em>

Blaine watched, feeling helpless as Kurt paced around his room at Dalton, Kurt having driven here directly after speaking to his Dad and step mom about transferring to Dalton.

For the past ten minutes he had walked, paced, stared angrily, muttered and ran his hands through his hair so many times, Blaine couldn't ever recall it looking so ruffled. His jaw was clenched as were his fists and he looked like he was about to cry. For once, Blaine couldn't think of a thing to say and instead sat there with his heart aching for his friend.

"You know what, no. Just no. I'm just—_ugh._" Again, Kurt pushed his slender hands into his hair. Abruptly, he turned to face Blaine and stared hard at him. Blaine's breath caught in his throat when Kurt narrowed his eyes and spoke. "People just aren't any good. Nobody. I don't—I'm so tired of being scared all the time, and intimidated by people who don't like me because of who I am. I'm tired of the adults in our life—who are supposed to _be _there for us and take _care _of us being oblivious and turning blind eyes right left and sideways. I'm tired of closeted homophobes, I'm tired of ignorant jackasses, and I am just so damn _tired _of having to stand up all the time when I just want to _run away_." He pushed out a breath in a rush and kicked the side of Blaine's bed, sniffing.

Blaine swallowed hard when he saw Kurt start to cry, because this was Kurt, and Kurt was never like this he was always so strong, and Blaine had never been a very violent person but all he wanted right now was to find Karofsky and make him bleed and cry like he did to Kurt. He stamped down the instinct to jump up and just hug the beautiful and crying boy in his room, because he wasn't sure if it would be welcome, but oh, he wanted to. He just wanted to hug him and brush the hair from his face and tell him it would be okay, that he can get through this.

He watched as Kurt lifted one of his hands from where it was dangling by his side, and brought it up to wipe at his cheeks and eyes. Before Blaine could think about what he was doing, his hand had reached out to grasp Kurt's tightly, and the next thing he knew he had an arm and lapful of a shaking Kurt Hummel. His face was pressed against Kurt's neck, and Kurt's hair—which smelled like vanilla and something musky and Blaine should _not _be thinking about how he smelled right now—was tickling his nose, and Blaine closed his eyes and pressed his face to the top of Kurt's head, nuzzling into his soft brown hair. He murmured things that had no meaning, and tightened the arm around Kurt's waist as he brought the other up to rub circles on his back.

Blaine laid them back against his headboard, Kurt still pressed against him and still sniffling, and Blaine still muttering and his heart still pounding. Moments which seemed like eternity and still to short, Kurt had stop crying and just lay limply against Blaine. He was still awake but staring blankly at the opposite wall, a slight frown furrowing his eyebrows. Needing to fill the silence with something, to distract Kurt _somehow_, Blaine reached over into the side table and pulled out a much worn, and much loved book that was always with him. Pulling the Big Book—and Kurt, but he wasn't going to acknowledge that—closer to him, he turned the pages almost completely towards the back and began to read a story that just seemed to fit.

"In a black, black world there was a black, black town and in the black, black town there was a black, black house and in the black, black house there was a black, black cupboard and in the black, black cupboard there was a white box…"

_Mental breakdown__ part 2- I'm Sorry, Buckcherry_

_Cause everything inside it never comes out right  
>And when I see you cry it makes me want to die<br>I'm sorry I'm bad, I'm sorry you're blue, I'm sorry about all things I said to you  
>And I know I can't take it back.<em>

He had never felt so awkward.

Blaine sat at their table in the Lima Bean, Kurt across from him, neither speaking, both simply staring into their coffee cups, but not drinking.

He swallowed and bit his lip, wanting to say something, to say he was sorry about what he said to Kurt, that he didn't mean it, that he never should've compared Kurt to Karofsky, because it just wasn't _true_ and that he was just upset when he said it. But the words got caught in his throat, and he toyed with the edge of his napkin, which was already frayed thanks to his anxious hands, and didn't say anything.

…

By an unspoken agreement, they forgave but it was obvious to everyone it wasn't forgotten by the remains of tension between the two.

Where as before the party, and the fight they had, they were always physically affectionate, cuddling somewhere, or a hand on an arm, adjusting a tie, brushing hands, there was nothing now. Very rarely were they alone together either, because of how tense and awkward things felt and Blaine didn't like it one bit. He missed Kurt and how they were before, he missed being able to talk about anything and everything and there were no uncomfortable silences, and they'd sit in his room with marathon of Disney movies or spread out on Kurt's bed discussing the latest issue of _Vogue _or how Blaine could lay his head on a pillow in Kurt's lap after a really long day and Kurt would complain about all the gel in his hair, but massage his temples and run his fingers through his hair anyway, and he just _missed _him. 

He was nervous about bringing it up, and it was a feeling new to Blaine because him and Kurt had always been honest with each other, and they'd never had an issue with it before. But now with how things were, he was anxious to say anything because what if Kurt didn't want to go back to the way things were? What if Blaine had hurt him too badly with what he said about Karofsky and Kurt decided he didn't want to be that… _Close _to him anymore?

It made Blaine's chest hurt, but he wasn't going to say anything to make it worse, because this was better than Kurt deciding he didn't want anything to do with Blaine at all. He'd just stick it out, and go from there. He'd just wait.

…

"I'm sorry." Blaine blurted out, watching as Kurt jerked his head up from where it was bent over his book.

He didn't even know why he said it. They were sitting in the commons studying, like they rarely ever do now, with Kurt needing to finish a book and Blaine studying for his pre Calc test the following day, until Blaine just wanted to scream, because he should be feeling happy that they're actually spending any time together when all he can think about is how before Kurt would be sprawled, laying on the floor, and Blaine would be sitting cross legged on the ground with Kurt's les over his lap and just being _comfortable. _Now Kurt was sitting up on a couch and Blaine in one of the armchairs furthest away and he just can't _do _it.

Kurt blinked, and for the first time Blaine could remember in a while actually looked him in the eyes for more than a split second. "What for?"

"For—well. For what I said. Before, About Karofsky." Blaine shifted, then couldn't hold it in when he saw Kurt flinch at the name and Blaine just wanted to cry—for the first time in a very, very long time—because he reminded compared Kurt to the guy who made him flinch. And now that he started he couldn't stop and it all just came spilling out before he could stop it. "I didn't mean it, God Kurt I didn't mean it—and I shouldn't' have said it because you're _not _like him at all, and I'm just so sorry, and especially sorry for kissing Rachel—" and whoa, when did he decide to bring that up?"—when I knew it would hurt you, and then again and I'm just sorry we fought and for what I said, and I'm sorry I didn't say sorry before but things are screwed up with us and I didn't want to make it worse but this is driving me crazy because I _miss _you and I miss us being friends." Blaine felt himself starting to lose control, for the first time since he was at Westerville High, or even before when his parents were getting a divorce, but he couldn't bring himself to care because this was _Kurt _and Kurt wouldn't think any less of him. "And I'm so, so sorry, and I don't think I can say it enough but I'm sorry, and I'm miserable, and I'll understand if you don't want to be like—before, but I'm just—I'm just sorry." And Blaine was _not _going to cry, but he was just so tired, like Kurt was tired before, and he felt tired of always watching himself, and always being so self assured all the time, and not being able to really be himself like he was before around Kurt, because although Wes, David and Thad have known each other forever, they just can't understand like Kurt can. He was just tired, so tired all the time, and just wanted someone to be strong _for _him for a change.

And, oh God, now he was crying because Kurt was there, wrapping his arms around him, and apologizing too, saying that _no _Blaine should not be apologizing, Kurt should've been there for him, and that Blaine had nothing to apologize for, and Blaine just shook his head and cried harder because oh, this was what he missed, he missed Kurt, and he missed his best friend.

Something in his chest loosened, and that familiar warmth that he'd come to acquaint with Kurt was forming in his stomach again, and he tried not to think about the fact that felt better than he had for quite a while just by being in Kurt's arms.

-.-

_Getting Together- Right in Front of You, Celine Dion_

_Right in front of you  
>Right in front of me<br>We were looking  
>But somehow, some way<br>We couldn't see  
>That the love was always there<br>It's been around us everywhere  
>I had to fall to finally see<br>That you were right in front of me_

He was beautiful, Blaine realized.

Of course, he'd always known Kurt was attractive, it'd be impossible to miss. But it was more in a general sense then actually realizing that Kurt was _beautiful. _

Kurt was singing, tears falling down his cheeks and trying to remain stoic while giving a farewell to the bird he'd grown to love. His hair was a mess, and he had circles under his eyes, his eyes were bright and he was paler that he usually was. But he was beautiful.

Blaine's voice trailed off from where he was singing with the rest of the Warblers, and simply stared at his best friend. His mind was racing, piecing things together, images, instances, and memories. The first day on the staircase, fingers on his wrist, Kurt lying in his arms as he told him a story from his and his mother's book, Kurt's love, his compassion, his attitude, his insecurities. Studying on the floor, movies in his room, Kurt's head bowed over a book, a shy smile from the doorway, Kurt's eyes looking up at him from his shoulder, everything _Kurt_, falling into place. His mind came to a simple conclusion that he felt he should've known all along. He should've known.

It should've been so obvious, with how right it was. _Of course_ it was always going to be this. Blaine wasn't surprised. On some level maybe he always knew, but right now all he could think was _Oh_._ I found you. _

….

The warmth was burning through the hands on Kurt's back and in Kurt's hair, through his lips and onto Kurt's. He moved his hand up, carding it through Kurt's _so soft _hair, marveling at how right it felt, and how could he have wasted so much time?

From Kurt's hands clutching onto his blazer and cupping his cheek, from his tongue twining lazily with Kurt's, the soft gasp from Kurt's lips as Blaine peppered small open-mouth kisses on his neck, from his breath mingling with Kurt's, and his forehead on Kurt's as the both panted softly, needing air and Kurt's eyelashes fanned against his cheeks, and his soft smile and warm eyes looking into his, Blaine felt like he was home.

-.-

_Prom Night- Love Song, Nelly Furtado_

_Sometimes my skin's so thick, it's frail  
>I just need to be ignored 'til I wake up to the beauty that is yours<br>And it all comes to life so suddenly  
>This is a place that's so deep, the water's so deep I hesitate, 'cause<br>All the energy it takes to feel this power  
>I tend to run, I tend to hide, 'til I find you and I know I<br>got you  
>I know, I know, I know...<br>You're the little boy made for me in the stars  
>In the stars, that's why I can't let you go.<br>The little boy made for me in the stars  
>That's why I love you more the further I go<br>Before this existence you were always here._

Blaine knew it could've been a disaster. Like junior prom, who knew what could've happened. But it wasn't a disaster, and they'd both had the time of their lives. Blaine shook his head again in awe at how amazing his boyfriend was, and finding it hard to believe they'd only been together for a little more than a year. He smiled softly as his eyes continued to trace his boyfriend's sleeping face on the pillow next to him.

He felt the love swell up inside of him until he felt like was about to burst, and Kurt's eyes fluttered, blinking open slowly. He saw Blaine lying there and his eyes softened, a warm smile tilting his lips.

Blaine let himself sink into those eyes a little, recalling the night before as Kurt smiled up at him as they danced, not caring about the people around him. He remembered Kurt's smile and the soft kiss pressed against his lips as they rode the elevator up. He remembered not needing romantic words, and just soft sheets, even softer skin, breathless moans and whispered _I love you'_s, with Kurt's nails clutching him, and moonlight playing across his pale skin. Each gripping the other tightly, and holding each other as they fell asleep eyes seeking the others and not needing a single word.

"Hi." Kurt smiled, and Blaine smiled right back, leaning his head towards Kurt's and kissing him softly, then resting his forehead against Kurt's.

"Hi." _I love you_, he thought. And he knew Kurt understood.

-.-

_Wedding- Murphy's lay, Al Jarreau_

_It's too good  
>It's too right<br>So something must be wrong  
>It's a bubble<br>That's gonna break  
>Says Murphy's Law<em>

"And this is one of the Grooms himself! Say hi, Blaine!" Wes snickered from behind the camera as Blaine stopped in his pacing momentarily to scowl at him. "C'mon, smile. You're getting married to your high school sweetheart!"

"Finally." David grinned from where he was standing next to Wes. Blaine just turned around and resumed his pacing, willing the phone in his pocket to ring, and trying his damndest to ignore his two best friends and his jittery stomach, because as David said; _finally_.

Thad, from where he was sprawled on a chair in the room where Blaine was getting ready and pacing, yawned and continued to watch Blaine pace. "Oh, would you two leave him alone? He's getting into one of his Excited States." Thad raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes and Blaine could hear the capital letters.

"I'm not getting into an 'Excited State'." He said. "I'm just a little bit nervous because it happens to be the day of my wedding," insert butterflies, "And Puck and Mike aren't back from where they're supposed to be picking up the cake, I'm pretty sure Kurt is throwing a bitch fit because Finn, who is in charge of the rings, and I don't even remember _why_, isn't here, and Kurt is probably a bit snappish because I know he didn't sleep well last night." And neither did he. Kurt had been adamant that he and Blaine not see each other for twenty-four hours before the wedding, and thus for the first time in three years they hadn't slept next to each other, and Blaine knew they both were suffering from it.

He sighed and ran a hand over his tired eyes, feeling stressed and anxious, and wanting to smash Wes' camera that was still pointing towards him. Blaine caught him and David exchanging a glance and a guilty look, and Blaine automatically put his fingers in his ears and closed his eyes, humming loudly.

"Whatever it is you two have done, I don't care and I don't want to hear it. All I know is that you'd better fix it before Kurt finds out and you have to deal with his wrath." He waited a couple moments, and then opened his eyes to see that Wes and David had left, and that Thad was laughing, shaking his head.

"Oh fuck, you should've seen their faces." He let out a small chuckle and wiped his eyes. "Seriously Blaine, though, you need to calm down. Why are you so nervous?"

Blaine sighed for what felt like the billionth time that morning, and ran his hand through his—gel free, a lost bet with Kurt—hair. He bit his lip and tried to figure out how to explain. "It's—I'm not nervous, exactly. No really," he said, seeing Thad's incredulous look. "Well, okay I'm not nervous about getting married to Kurt. I'm excited about that, extremely, and I can't wait. It's just—the wedding itself I'm nervous about. I want it to be perfect because Kurt really wants it to be perfect, and I want it to be perfect _for _Kurt, and I don't know if I'm making any sense."

"Actually, I think it's sad that I did understand that." Thad shook his head. "Know someone long enough and you get to understand their nervous ramblings, I suppose."

Blaine smiled sheepishly.

Thad opened his mouth to say something else when Nick more or less burst into the room, looking frightened. "Blaine, we have a problem, and I am _not _going to be the one to tell Kurt."

…

Blaine stared down at the table. "Is that-?"

Puck nodded, also looking down at the table along with Thad, Mike, Sam, Nick and Artie. "Sure is."

Artie tilted his head to the left, then to the right then looked up at Blaine. "What are you going to tell Kurt?"

Blaine continued to stare. "Fuck."

Where his wedding cake that him and Kurt had spent hours deciding on should have been, there instead was a cake that was—decidedly not a wedding cake.

"Is that," Sam squinted. "A _nipple _ring?"

"Fuck." Blaine repeated.

"_My _abs don't even look like that." Mike stated, peering closely at the cake depicting a half naked man, standing at three feet tall.

"Okay, so they got the cakes mixed up." Puck said, looking between everyone gazing at the cake. "We'll just take it back and get the right one, because I don't know about you, but I do not want to be the one to have to tell Princess that his wedding cake is actually a male stripper."

Blaine shook his head. Thad snorted, "You do realize the wedding starts in—" he glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. "—an hour?"

Puck shrugged. "We'll drive fast. And if we wreck, well. I'd rather die in a car accident than at the hands of Kurt Hummel, anyway."

…

"You did _what _to my mother?" Blaine yelled in shock, staring between the ashamed looking Wes and David in front of him. After Blaine had left the kitchen with assurances from Artie that they'd handle the cake fiasco, he was intercepted by his two best friends.

David fidgeted. "We weren't trying to do it _directly _to her. How were we supposed to know she'd drink it?"

Wes elbowed him in the side, and Blaine's eyes narrowed as he winced. "We didn't mean to Blaine, I swear, we'll get her sober in no time okay? Okay?"

Jeff wandered in and walked towards them looking vaguely disturbed. "Uhm, Blaine? Do you know why your mother is stripping in the entry hall?"

Wes and David both flinched as Blaine cut his eyes towards them. "At least she isn't trying to make out with Will Schuester anymore? Wes asked hopefully.

Jeff shook his head. "All I know is that I am so _not _going to be the one to tell Kurt."

….

"You actually thought I'd lose the rings?" Finn asked, looking offended. "Are you kidding? Kurt would _kill _me."

Blaine sighed in relief, as he had a few moments earlier when Finn finally made himself known. "Thank God. At least something is going right. Excuse me; I need to go see if I need to kill Wes and David, or if they're still babysitting my mother like they are supposed to."

After he'd walked out, Thad, who was also with him stayed behind and glanced at Finn. "You lost the rings, didn't you?"

Finn turned desperate and pleading eyes towards him. "_Help me_."

….

An hour later and Blaine was standing next to Thad, Wes, and David where they were waiting for Kurt to make his entrance. He glanced towards the front row where his mother was and she gave him a painful, but mostly sober smile, and directed a glare towards the two boys cowering behind him. He smiled back, shaking his head and glanced towards the back of the room where he saw Mike, Sam, and Puck hauling a huge cake—thankfully not in the shape of a half naked person—towards the kitchen, and Artie gave him a thumbs up. Behind him, Thad raised a questioning eyebrow at Finn who smiled thankfully and patted the pocket of his coat. Blaine turned around and decided he did not want to know.

Finally, the doors opened and he saw Kurt and Burt walk in and Blaine felt his throat tighten at the smile his fiancé was giving him, unable to tear his eyes away from the blue eyes coming towards him. He stood in the doorway, radiating confidence and happiness, and Blaine knew he'd have this image, along with the one of the little boy and the teenager on the staircase, burned into his brain forever.

He felt the always welcomed warmth in his stomach, and as Burt hugged Kurt, who turned and slipped his hand into Blaine's and smiling directly into his eyes, Blaine felt that he'd do everything all over again for this man, this wonderful, beautiful, amazing man.

He smiled softly at him, and couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life with Kurt Hummel.

-.-

_Birth of Child- Isn't she Lovely? Stevie Wonder_

_Isn't she lovely  
>Isn't she wonderful<br>Isn't she precious  
>Less than one minute old<br>I never thought through love we'd be  
>Making one as lovely as she<br>But isn't she lovely made from love_

_**And**_

_Baby Mine, Alison Krauss_

_If they knew sweet little you  
>They'd end up loving you too<br>All those same people who scold you  
>What they'd give just for the<br>right to hold you  
>From your head down to your toes<br>You're not much, goodness knows  
>But you're so precious to me<br>Sweet as can be, baby of mine_

Blaine looked at the little bundle in his arms, and then helplessly up to Kurt and down again, shaking his head in awe that this was _his_ child, this was _their _little girl that they'd been waiting and waiting for, for nine months.

Even after spending the past twenty-nine hours and eighteen minutes just holding and looking at her, he was still amazed, and he knew Kurt felt the exact same way when he gently ran a hand over her soft, dark brown curls. She had a full head of dark hair, and when she opened her eyes—for just a moment—they were the same light blue that all new born babies had. Blaine couldn't wait to see if she had his hazel eyes, or the blue eyes of her birth mother.

Blaine remembered when, a year ago, Quinn of all people came to him and Kurt after they announced they wanted to have a child, after being married for two and a half years. She had shocked them when she offered to carry his child—because, although they had grown closer over the years, neither Kurt nor Blaine could ever imagine Quinn offering something like this, especially after being pregnant once before and giving her up.

But three months afterwards, after many long conversations, quite a bit of tears, and some frustration, Quinn became pregnant.

He glanced over towards the curtained area where Quinn was currently sleeping, not knowing how they could ever thank her enough for such a gift. She had given the baby over selflessly, instead smiling tiredly at them and saying they were going to be wonderful fathers, and she had better be god mother or else.

Shaking his head and filled with admiration, he passed their little girl over to Kurt who wanted to feed her her formula and nutrient supplement.

He put his chin in his hand and watched as his husband smiled softly down at their child, picking up her tiny hand and placing a kiss on her fist, never knowing it was possible to feel so happy.

-.-

_Death Scene- Live Like You Were Dying, Tim McGraw_

_I went sky divin',  
>I went rocky mountain climbin',<br>I went 2.7 seconds on a bull name Fumanchu.  
>And I loved deeper,<br>And I spoke sweeter,  
>And I gave forgiveness I've been denying,<br>And he said someday I hope you get the chance,  
>To live like you were dyin'.<em>

"Okay, Daddy we'll be in the kitchen, okay? You or Papa call us if you need us. Elenora, c'mon baby, kiss Papi and Granddaddy, then get off the bed. Go on, go find daddy real quick."

Blaine smiled as their youngest great granddaughter—"_Grandma! Call me _Lenny!"—looked up from where she was showing them the new pictures she drew in preschool. She looked at him and Kurt who were lying in their bed, then back at her Mom, bottom lip trembling. "But Grandma, I wanna stay _here_."

His daughter put her hands on her hips, and raised an eyebrow until Lenny bit her lip—a habit she had picked up from him and her Mom—and put the papers down, and crawled towards them, kissing each on their cheeks, and taking each of their hands in her—oh so tiny—ones, and looking at them seriously. "I love you, and you can keep my pictures, okay? Promise you'll keep them with you?"

He saw his husband squeeze her hand lightly, and push her light curls—that she had also inherited from him—away from her bright blue eyes. Blaine smiled and nodded, kissing her on her forehead. "Promise."

She nodded seriously, bent and whispered something to Kurt that made his eyes soften and his hand tighten on hers, and then went off to find her father, and after a moment—with a kiss on each cheek and a tight hug—their daughter followed.

Kurt sighed, smiling and leaning back against the pillows, turning his head towards him, and Blaine marveled at the fact that he was still as beautiful as he ever was. He laid a hand on his pale cheek, and scooted towards his side of the bed, making Kurt roll his eyes, but moving his legs towards him so Blaine could put his feet underneath, like they had done for years and years and years.

Kurt leaned to rest his forehead against Blaine's, looking into his eyes with love that had never dimmed over the decades, and then Blaine laughed softly.

"What is it?" his husband questioned, whispering softly and also smiling.

Blaine nodded towards their side table, where a large story book was set on the corner. "Lenny forgot the Big Book."

Kurt smiled and shook his head. "No she didn't. She said everyone always needs a story right before they go to bed. She's too smart sometimes, I think."

Blaine smiled also, turning and pulling his husband of sixty-three years towards him further, and lacing their hands together. "Did she say which one?"

"She said the one with the white box." Kurt smiled, eyes twinkling. "But we don't really need the Big Book for that, considering we both have it memorized by heart."

Blaine laughed softly, feeling the tiredness in his too-old bones as he laid his head on the shoulder of the man he loved since he was sixteen. "I think it's your turn to tell it."

He felt a kiss pressed to his head. "You just don't want to be the one to tell the story. It's actually your turn."

He smiled, eyes closed. "But I love your voice."

"Well, it's hard to argue with that." His husband gave a small chuckle. "When have I ever been able to say no to you? Oh, fine. In a black, black world there was a black, black town and in the black, black town there was a black, black house and in the black, black house there was a black, black cupboard and in the black, black cupboard there was a white box…"

Blaine listened until his husbands voice started to trail off. And feeling the warmth wrapped around him and in his chest like a cocoon lying there next to his husband, and the fluttering in his stomach and heart, he fell asleep with his hands clasped in Kurt's.

_Final Credit's- __Somewhere Only We Know, Keane_

_Oh, simple thing, where have you gone?  
>I'm getting old and I need something to rely on<br>So tell me when, you're gonna let me in  
>I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin<br>And if you have a minute why don't we go  
>Talk about it somewhere only we know?<br>This could be the end of everything  
>So why don't we go, somewhere only we know<br>Somewhere only we know?_

_Oh, simple thing, where have you gone?  
>I'm getting old and I need something to rely on<br>So, tell me when you gonna let me in  
>I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin<br>And if you have a minute why don't we go  
>Talk about it somewhere only we know?<br>This could be the end of everything.  
>So why don't we go, so why don't we go?<em>

_Hmmm yeah._

_This could be the end of everything  
>So why don't we go, somewhere only we know,<br>Somewhere only we know  
>Somewhere only we know?<em>

**Reviews are not only appreciated, they're adored and loved.**

**Second Edit: Beta'd, finally! Also, has anybody else noticed that the ride the "A" from Blaine A. for characters? And I was so excited about that…**


End file.
